Sympathy
by Hail Ephiny
Summary: Changelings, Stockholm syndrome and shifty deals. Sounds like Sarah's been duped again. - [JarethXSarah] RATED FOR INEVITABLE LATER CHAPTERS
1. Realizations

_DISCLAIMER_ _: If I owned Labyrinth, Jareth wouldn't be stuck inside my crummy made up world full of plot holes and spelling errors, would he?_

* * *

 **CHAPTER ONE : Realizations**

Things fall apart, they say. To Sarah Williams those words were never more true. Oh, they hurt... her memories. Memories of love, of family, they hurt. Her world had torn itself to pieces in the space of thirteen hours and yet it turned and turned again.

She had won. She had tried to smile but it had soon become the smile of desolation. Inside she felt only her heart breaking as she watched what she had originally thought to be her baby brother grow, only to see something slightly off and disturbing taking his place. At first she assumed she was going mad, that her time Underground in the Labyrinth had driven her around the bend. Her brother's doppelganger would often let his guard down, the creature lurking beneath the rosy cheeks and white blonde curls sometimes venturing out to play. No one else seemed to see past it's glamour, and so no one else noticed. But as time carried on and the months turned to years, it became undeniable.

Toby was a _Changeling_.

That significant night five years ago, in which certain words had been spoken, haunted Sarah's every waking thought. Try as she might to now distance herself from her supposed brother and family, she could never truly shake the guilt that pulled at her heart. There was no one else to blame for Toby's kidnapping, and it was her same uncaring adolescent-self's fault he was not coming back.

"I'm thinking of the future here, Sarah." Karen's shrill tone meant nothing to Sarah as she held the phone inattentively against her ear, focused on spooning the last remains of chocolate ice cream from an empty tub. Karen had been begging Sarah to come home for the good part of 6 months, to help with the unpleasantries of being knocked yet up again, she supposed. It must be hard to raise not one, but two little goblins. Sarah was quite determined never to return to the house she grew up in. Apparently the Changeling, now aged six, often asked after his sister. Of course he did, Sarah thought. He was probably somehow still connected to the Underground and to that ingrate who took her real brother away, no doubt trying to do some spying for his King.

Sarah grimaced and dropped the spoon back into the tub.

"Oh, you would think of the future, Karen. Because the past is far too painful." Hanging up, Sarah felt a lick of guilt at the spiteful words she had directed toward her step mother. Had she meant them? No, probably not. But she was never going back to her family again, no matter how much they pleaded with her.

It was quite the mystery ay the Williams household as to why their daughter had grown so distant and reclusive over such a short amount of time. One day Sarah was her normal loud and self-important teenage self, and the next she was quiet, remote and withdrawn. It seemed as though Sarah was striving for her independence far too early, although all her family could do was watch as she became more and more distant from them.

At nineteen, Sarah lived in a small and meek apartment in regrettably one of the more precarious parts of the city. It wasn't much, but it was cheap and in walking distance to Sarah's work. When she was younger, before any of the complications arose in her life, living on her own would have seemed dangerous and daunting but Sarah was almost surprised at how easily she had moved away and settled into her own space. Perhaps she was finally growing up, or perhaps it was just the subconscious relief of not living with Toby's insidious replacement.

Sarah worked part-time as a barista in a quaint coffee shop on the corner, not the most glamorous of job titles, but one she was thankful to have. The hours were lenient, and Sarah fitted them around her numerous small acting gigs and auditions. They were nothing serious, of course, but they paid bills.

But then, as it often likes to, fate intervened.

It was neither a sunny nor bright day when she saw him, her brother. It was bitter and overcast, and Sarah's breath hung in the cold air in front of her as she fumbled in her wallet for her bus card. She was heading into the main central shopping district that day, to collect something for one of her co-workers. She spied him just as she was making her way towards the back seat of the bus, out of the corner of a fogged up window. He was there on the frosty sidewalk, wrapped up like a burrito against the chilly weather, messy blonde curls sticking out from underneath a woolen cap. The connection was unmistakable, and as she stared at her brother, his eyes in turn snapped toward her direction. She had begun yelling frantically, no doubt disturbing the other passengers on board the bus, but desperate to stop the driver from taking off. Someone else was with Toby, of whom she couldn't make out at the time. The taller figure had taken Toby's hand and pulled his attention away from her. It must have only taken her all of ten seconds to jump off the bus and run to him, but by the time she had got there he had already vanished.

The stranger was him, she only knew after the fact. The taller figure was that of the enigmatic Goblin King, no doubt deliberately parading Toby around for Sarah to see, knowing full well that she couldn't do anything about it. That night she went home and willed herself not to cry, but to use the pent up guilt of over five years to her advantage. That so-called King had lied to her. He had lied over and over again and she had fallen for every single one of his tricks. Of course she had - she was only a child herself. Thinking back, she had realized he had no intentions of ever letting her, a little mortal girl, win her baby brother back. Why would he?

Sarah supposed that brief glimpse of her brother, her real brother, was the last straw that had broke the camel's back, so to speak. It had awoken something in her that couldn't be ignored, a sudden burst of motivation that drove her towards finally doing something about the entire situation. Sarah made it her sole pursuit to read up on folklore and what she supposed the King of the Goblins actually was. She soon begun to comprehend that his species primarily consisted of a bunch of tricky liars and thieves and surmised that the only way to ever see Toby again would be to confront the King one last time, and initiate some form of parlay.

Sarah stood from her seated position on the cold wooden floor of her kitchen, depositing the empty ice cream tub in the small sink. Her stomach was alight with the wings of a thousand angry butterflies, her nervousness swiftly beginning to set in. Was she really going to do it tonight? To say those horrible words again and summon Toby's kidnapper? What if it didn't work? What if nothing happened?

What-ifs often clouded Sarah's mind, but she used the driving force the King had unknowingly encouraged in her to refocus. She couldn't be held back by what-ifs and buts - she had to see her brother again, or at the very least _try_.


	2. Revelations

_DISCLAIMER_ _: Claiming that I own Labyrinth is just as futile as Anne Rice trying to stop us from writing about her characters. If I want Lestat lemons, then I will get them. You can't stop me._

* * *

 **CHAPTER TWO : Revelations**

Sarah sat cross-legged on her bed, bouncing her knee up and down out of anticipation. It was a cold night, heavy rain having already set in for the evening, and Sarah tugged tightly at the shawl around her shoulders for heat. The atmosphere was certainly fitting.

She was really about to do it, to say her right words and summon him again. She supposed it was an inevitable act in order to ever have a chance of reuniting with her sibling, although something in the back of her mind implored her not to go through with it.

It was dangerous, she realized. The Fae were almost impossible to deal with, and from the endless hours she had spent poring over ancient tomes from the local library on the subject, there were very few who had actually been able to bargain with them successfully. Additionally, Sarah had no idea if her brother was even still human, let alone alive. She dared not think about the latter.

Sarah thumbed an iron nail inside her hoodie pocket, put there as a guard against being snatched herself. She wasn't sure if it would work, but the tales she had read were promising and she felt better having it on her. A row of delicate little yellow flowers plucked from a St Johns Wort plant lined the balcony door next to her bed, another supposed ward against Fae kind.

A small, and admittedly poorly made makeshift altar sat on the foot of her bed, comprised of a cheap plastic tea tray and adorned with humble offerings: a jar of honey, sourced locally she noted, two wine glasses full of the sweetest wine she could afford, and the incredibly personal offering of a lock of hair. They were to be used as bargaining tools, she had read, although the very idea of using them to bargain with the mystifying Goblin King seemed a little farfetched. She wasn't sure any of the items would be enticing enough to warrant an exchange with the Fae, considering she wasn't even sure if the King of the Goblins was one. She didn't really know anything about him at all, and his title wasn't present in any of her studying. But it was worth a try. A small red bound book, it's cover worn by time and without doubt her own irresponsible care, sat to the side. Sarah daren't open it, least it bring back horrible memories of the last time she ever saw Toby. She already knew the words off by heart at any rate, their very arrangement etched into her memory.

Sarah cleared her throat, breathing deeply and trying to calm her nerves.

"I wish.." As soon as those ominous words left her mouth she felt a rush of foolishness at what she was about to do, her cheeks flushing even though she was alone. She wondered what it would be like to see him again, her supposed nemesis. She had dwelt so long on the words that he had spoken during their final encounter, the words that she at the time had no idea of the significant implications behind. He had been trying to seduce her, to bewitch her into staying. Perhaps if she had been old enough, she would have conceded to his delectably sweet words, but given she had been a child - fourteen! - she hadn't understood. She hadn't comprehended anything that he had been telling her, and so she had rejected him and fled in a moment of juvenile terror.

"I wish..." She chewed on her bottom lip in thought, her mind racing in both fear and impatience. She had imagined saying the words so many times, seeing Toby again and ultimately somehow winning him back. In her thoughts it was easy, and the King had effortlessly relented.

Of course she had realized long ago, nothing could ever be that easy.

"I wish the Goblin King was here, right now."

A foreboding silence swallowed the room, the only sound being that of her own heart hammering away in her chest against the echoes of heavy rain. But then as she waited for the King's foreseeable entrance - nothing! _Nothing, tra-la-la?_

No Goblin King. No Goblins. And regrettably, no Toby.

Figures. She mused to herself, an overwhelming sensation of something akin to disappointment washing over her. Of course he wouldn't make it easy.

As if taking a cue from her thoughts, the light bulb hanging from the ceiling above Sarah's head popped, plunging her room into darkness. Sarah jumped at the noise it made, her eyes adjusting poorly to the unexpected lack of light. She found herself struggling to make out the four walls of her own bedroom, and pulled her shawl protectively around herself as she squinted.

Sarah's partially drawn balcony curtains let a very small amount of light to filter through, although this did nothing but heighten the number of curiously menacing shadows that played out around her. She could hear movement. Or, she thought she could. Ever so slight, perhaps a cackling, and then silence once again.

Any moment now she was expecting the balcony doors to fly open, and a white owl to barge it's way in with a gust of glitter and feathers. And yet, as she waited in the dark silence for what seemed like an age, nothing happened. Not one thing.

"I've gone mad." Sarah confided into the dark night air, relaxing slightly with her confession.

She was just working up the nerve to stand from her seating position when she noticed a rather dark shape looming amongst the shadows in the furthest corner of her room. Instantaneously the hair on her arms prickled, and she felt a shiver ripple up from the base of her spine. She was not alone.

"Sometimes that is an appropriate response." And there he was, an unnatural figure standing amongst the shadowy anonymity and cloaked by darkness and midnight. He stepped forward and Sarah could just about make out his black regalia and wispy cloak. Squinting, she saw his hair, ever a mess of wildness as it seemed to sparkle and shimmer in the low light. He moved his head to the side, regarding her for a moment with the most unusually mismatched eyes.

She found her own eyes now adjusting quickly in a panic and, upon getting a better look, realized that she hadn't remembered his face to be quite so striking, nor his body to be quite so imposing. And of course he looked not a day older than she had remembered him.

Something about the way he stood, the way she could make out his eyes raking over her now hesitant form was oddly alluring, and she found it unexpectedly difficult to summon her words.

"Sar-rah." His voice purposefully drawing out the syllables of her name brought back nearly forgotten memories of dancing and ball gowns, memories Sarah had decisively tried to suppress. It was foreign and yet it wasn't, like sugar and yet like venom.

"Y-you're him, aren't you? You're the... King." Her voice wavered quietly, as if she didn't quite believe it herself. He had arrived without his former flamboyance, although the déjà vu she received from her words was uncanny, her mind reeling back to their first encounter again. But no. She was not a foolish little girl this time around. She steeled herself, squaring her shoulders where she sat and jutting out her chin.

"Why? Why did you take Toby?" Sarah's own sudden courage astounded even herself, but the Goblin King said nothing. He did however raise an arched eyebrow in response. Uninhibited and running on what was probably only pure adrenaline at this point, Sarah continued. She threw her legs over the side of the bed into the inky blackness and stood up, making herself appear as tall as possible, mirroring the King's commanding stance where he now came to stand in the middle of her small room. He seemingly found amusement in her actions, because he chose then to speak with a sliver of a grin.

"I wanted him, so I took him." Oh, that English inflection was so unfamiliar to her ears and yet so reassuring. It nearly took all of the fight out of her. Nearly. Truthfully she must have only been running on fumes, fear leaching into her mind.

"But why?" Her eyebrows knitted together as she thought about the life her brother had surely been living. She had read about the fate of the ones who had been snatched away in her studies, and ended up sobbing for many nights over it. Had he been tortured? Had he been suffering? Had he been transformed into a goblin himself? When she spoke next, she found her voice cracking with emotion, her bravado faltering.

"Surely you don't need him for anything. He's just a kid. Why won't you give him back?"

The King swept his mismatched eyes down her now standing frame, as if regarding her appearance. Sarah silently cursed herself for not thinking about putting something a little more appropriate on. She was still wearing her shawl and hoodie, looking rather out of place against the formal attire of her company. But to hell with it, she thought. This was no time to suddenly feel materialistic and self-conscious. If the King was going to look down his nose at her then so be it, if this was the only way she could get to her brother.

"Is this for me then?" His eyes came to rest on the small tray of offerings at the foot of her bed, Again Sarah cursed herself for feeling so diffident in his presence, even though her modest offerings seemed absurd in comparison to what he could probably obtain for himself.

"Sarah, are you bribing me?" He studied the jar of honey and the glasses of wine, only reaching out for the lock of hair. He held it in a gloved hand and regarded it as if appraising a piece of fine art.

"A trade." Sarah blurted out, watching in silent horror as a more menacing grin spread over the Goblin King's face, inhumanly sharp teeth glinting in the poor light filtering through the room. He looked almost manic cast in the shadows and she felt her heart begin to speed up, although she wasn't entirely sure it was purely out of fear.

"While all these gifts are so very alluring, Sarah, I don't think you offer a just trade."

"But-but it's... not fair, that's all I can give you." Again she felt a pang of nostalgia at the words she spoke, almost taken aback at her own choice of wording and the childlike deliverance in which she spoke them. He really did bring out the worst in her.

He on the other hand didn't seem too fazed by her reaction, instead taking her flustering as an opportunity to further discomfit her. He ran the dark lock of hair he still held in his hand along the curve of his sharp jawline, making sure Sarah was watching every movement.

"You want fair, Sarah? Fine." The King mused for a moment, raising his other gloved hand with an all too familiar orb resting in the crest of his fingertips. He toyed with it, again making sure Sarah's gaze was still locked on him before he spoke.

"A fair trade would be a brother for a sister. Isn't that fitting? Your life for your brother's. That's only fair."

"But...but I can't..."

She had been a child, only a child, when he had last posed this suggestion to her, and yet Sarah felt just as confused then as she did now. Although now she admitted it was different. The King now mentioned nothing of becoming subservient to her if she agreed to trade places with her brother. And the very idea that she could trade places suggested her sibling was alive and (to some degree) well. Perhaps this was the King's justice, his own selfish retribution for her original rejection. Perhaps that first offer of love and obedience back when she was fourteen was a once-in-a-lifetime deal, never to be put on the table again. But even if it meant a lifetime of hardship and turmoil, of slavery and pain, she would definitely trade if it meant her brother would be free. Wouldn't she?

"Toby's liberty costs only the price of yours." Suddenly the King seemed a lot closer to her, and yet he had remained still. Looking down Sarah realized her own feet were to blame as she observed herself hesitantly take a step further toward him.

"I think that is mighty generous of me, considering he is already well established as my successor and heir. What will we make of you? What place will you have in my court?"

"Heir?" Sarah frowned in slight bewilderment as she slowly put two and two together, her confusion caught by the King as he continued with a slight and knowing smirk.

"Be honest with me, Sarah. Is your life so remarkable that you would be missed greatly upon your departure? Would anyone even notice your absence at all?"

"Where is Toby?" Sarah ignored his rather crude remarks, dread and suspicion setting in. The fiery courage that dwelt within Sarah was back from earlier before, the King gladly noted. It was something he greatly admired about his young challenger, and found almost endearing. In a blatant attempt to stoke said fire, the King changed the subject altogether.

"My world isn't as bad as you tend to think it is. I can give you dreams you never realized you had dreamt, bring to life the desires you never knew you even harbored." He held out his other hand then, offering her the crystal orb that rested delicately in his gloved palm. Suddenly Sarah knew where he his words were leading.

"All you have to do is give yourself to me and your brother will be free. You'll never want for anything again, Sarah. And neither will Toby, if that is what you wish."

Closer now, Sarah could see all the detail of the King's features as he sill held her lock of hair against his face. The act would have been almost charming if his smirk hadn't been so irksome and, to put bluntly, pretentious.

He was a bizarrely beautiful creature, Sarah had recalled from their first encounter, and with the chance to have a second look she maintained that yes, he was indeed attractive, but it was abundantly clear that he knew he was, and so acted like God's gift to women.

 _Then again if he was one of the leannán sí (a type of Fae which had rather facinated Sarah during her studies) then perhaps he_ _ **was**_ _God's gift to women._

Sarah looked down from the King's face to his outstretched hand, crystal globe perched perfectly in his palm. She was on a quest, she chided herself silently. It wouldn't do to be distracted by the pretty face of her old adversary.

"What is your answer, Sarah?" His harmonious voice broke her from her concentration, duo eyes scrutinizing her expression. His overconfident smirk betrayed the truth that he was expecting her response to be something far different from what she finally answered him.

"I want to see Toby."


	3. Ramifications

_DISCLAIMER_ _: Do I own it? No. I don't. And by the look of all those horrible credits, I never will._

* * *

 **CHAPTER THREE : Ramifications**

There was a delicious scent in the warm air. Sarah looked around cautiously at first. Wherever she was, she felt light and airy, and slightly dizzy.

The glen she now stood in was gorgeous, and the sky above an absolute blue. A rushing creek carved its way through the spacious area, spreading its long watery fingers into smaller streams in the distance. The grass underfoot was a gloriously bright shade of green, wild flowers specking the otherwise perfect hue, and was plush, as though no soul had ever set foot upon it.

She supposed The Goblin King had spirited her away, judging from her abrupt lightheadedness, although to where she wasn't sure. The sweet scent she could smell in the air was akin to honey, warm and welcoming. For the moment Sarah considered that she had found Eden. She felt a sudden need to spin around Julie Andrews style, and would have done so if not for the fact that the eerie King was stood next to her and watching rather carefully. But it was stunning, so bright and splendid.

And so not where Sarah had expected to be.

"Where...where are we?" Was all she could mumble, still awed by the entrancing surroundings that made up such a paradise, fully aware of the King's steely gaze upon her.

"The gardens." He replied, offering no further explanation as to how they actually got there.

They were stood in the middle of what Sarah truly considered heaven, both looking somewhat out of place. The King was still clothed in midnight black, his cape pooling over the grass at his feet, and she was still protectively clutching at the shawl draped over her shoulders. She supposed they made quite the unsightly pair.

"But where is this?"

"Within the castle grounds."

"The castle?"

"My castle."

Sarah tore her attention from the lush green grounds to stare uneasily at her adversary. She remembered his castle very well - horrible, foreboding, ghastly, falling apart. Certainly this wasn't it.

"But...but it doesn't look like how I remember. This is...beautiful." She admitted.

The King studied her expression rather devotedly but Sarah pulled her eyes away again, somewhat smitten by something moving in the distance.

"Things in this world change depending on how you perceive them. When you are a child, you think like a child, my dear Sarah. When you grow up, suddenly your childish ways don't cloud your reasoning."

"Are you saying that this - this beauty - is where I've been before?" She asked, squinting to make out what she swore was the figure of a small child.

"Precisely."

She grew still and after a moment with no response the King followed Sarah's line of vision to find the reason for her unexpected silence. It was indeed the figure of a young boy she was gazing at not too far away, and suddenly Sarah's heart began to hammer in her chest.

"Toby.." She mouthed, her voice failing as she stared, unwavering and absorbed in the scene.

"Go to him." She heard the King suggest, but she needn't any encouragement before gleefully fleeing the Goblin King's side and making a B-line across the vivid grass toward her brother.

The small boy had his back to her and was casually clad in what appeared to be shorts and a t-shirt, kicking at the grass and stones next to the bubbling brook. A mop of messy blonde curls atop his head blew gently in the wind and for the moment Sarah hesitated. What if he didn't look anything like what the changeling did? What if she didn't recognize him, or he didn't recognize her?

Her hesitation proved only to be fleeting as upon hearing her footfall, the boy turned sharply toward her, a small smile lighting up his young face - a face she definitely recognized.

"Hello?" He squeaked and she suddenly couldn't help herself.

"Toby!" Sarah pounced on the small boy, crushing him against her chest in a tight embrace. She had only imagined this moment in her dreams, and she closed her eyes tightly in fear that if she opened them he might vanish.

"Are you okay, Toby? Oh my goodness, you have no idea how worried I've been. I'm so sorry! So sorry..." She found herself half laughing, half crying, and half wondering what was going on. This place was far from the dried up wasteland of a kingdom that she remembered so vividly. This place was bliss.

"I'm okay. I'm fine." Toby wheezed in Sarah's tight embrace, causing her to straighten up and release him.

"Are you, though? I was so afraid you'd be a goblin before I ever saw you again. Oh Toby, you have no idea." She regarded him now through streams of tears, kneeling down in the grass so that she was his height.

He was her brother - her real brother. The Changeling had fashioned quite the remarkable duplicate, although Sarah now saw where the eerie little creature had got it wrong. Toby had Sarah's eyes, the same deep emerald ones as his sister. They shimmered like watery pools in the sunlight and nothing in the Changeling's abilities could replicate such stunning eyes. That had always irked Sarah. No one, not even Toby's own mother, had noticed the difference.

"Why would I be one of those?" Toby questioned, and it was then that Sarah noticed he was talking with a peculiar accent. She was so used to hearing his doppelganger speaking that she wasn't quite ready for the strange pronunciation that came from of her brothers mouth.

He sounded altogether too much like the King, Sarah thought bitterly to herself. But he was definitely her brother, she could tell, and felt a sudden protective urge to sweep him into another hug.

"Anyway, you're here and you're safe. And that is all that matters." She whispered as she gave him another tight squeeze.

"Why wouldn't I be safe?"

"It doesn't matter." She huffed into his hair, embracing him tightly. "But it's okay now, because you can go home. And you can see Karen and dad again."

"Home?" Toby struggled against Sarah's grasp, his eyebrows upturned and the most sincere look of confusion spreading across his small features.

"Yes, oh! Karen is going to be so happy to see you."

"Karen?"

"Your mum, I mean. They will be so happy to have you back."

"Well done, Toby." The King's deep velvet voice greeted, and Sarah stood up rather startled. He had approached them silently like a predator, and was now peering down at the small boy standing next to his sister. "You've just been awarded your freedom."

Sarah grinned faintly at his words, watching her brother's emotions play out. He was free, finally. He could go home and live the normal life he was supposed to live, before his resentful older sister wished it away from him.

"You can go home whenever you like." She encouraged.

Toby's eyes flickered from the King's to Sarah's, and then back to the King's again. The very sight of his confusion would have been enough to make Sarah laugh, if not for the fact he also looked like he was about to burst into tears at any moment.

"But I want to stay." He blurted out, his bottom lip trembling slightly as if struggling to hold back a hissy fit. He then slinked away from Sarah and fastened himself to the King's leg, hiding under his cape affectionately.

"Well then," The King had allowed a conceited smirk to grace his face as he addressed Sarah. She knew that smirk very well. "I suppose what's said is said."

Sarah could do nothing but ball her fists at her sides as she watched the following strangeness play out. The King offered his outstretched hand to Toby, who willingly unfastened himself from his leg and took it.

And so things had fallen apart once again for Sarah, fate firmly determined to prove her wrong. As Sarah watched her brother gladly take the hand of his own kidnapper, she felt nothing but pity and regret at the waste of it all. An internal battle of right and wrong warred within her, but she said nothing. Her brother was safe, if not more protected than he would have been in his own world. The thought made Sarah's head spin.

Perhaps she had been in the wrong the entire time? How was she to know of Toby's unlikely circumstances? But then, perhaps she should have worked it out. The pieces fell into place easily enough. That aside, the wheel of life turned on - granted her one existence and stole the other away. Such was the life of one Sarah Williams. Her brother had no desire to leave, and although Sarah had no desire to stay, she had rightfully traded her place with him. She had been, for lack of better words, drafted into staying.

And so it came as a surprise of sorts to find that the King was rather gracious in her defeat.


End file.
